


well, we choose life. it’s our choice, isn’t it?

by A1SW0RLD



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Hydraulic Press - Freeform, Implied Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Other, first fic so spare me, how the fuck do you tag, kinda short, kokichi Regrets Things, set the split second before he, uh, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A1SW0RLD/pseuds/A1SW0RLD
Summary: kokichi regrets, and he ponders the true meaning of this game.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, well its Implied - Relationship
Kudos: 22





	well, we choose life. it’s our choice, isn’t it?

we live, and how intense, is life. 

that was what kokichi ouma stood by, up until danganronpa.

how interesting was danganronpa, a double edged sword sitting in the palms of his hands and the steel cold and unwelcoming. a game for the world and yet to those playing it was like a deep breath and a shudder. thinking of death, the smell, was too overwhelming for the supreme leader. and so, he seals the thought into the depths of his mind. death hung overhead, a gentle hand brushing over his brow, a crown of despair adorning him.

for a long while, he has kept everybody at arm‘s length with the thought, the future is mine. nobody truly picks and prods at kokichi ouma, trying to look beneath the surface, the lies, the facades. besides for shuichi saihara, a lowly detective who was gauche as ever until he was in a class trial. detective mode, is what he calls it, watching shuichi’s attentive eyes turn intense, stuck in deep thought. the thing about their strange dynamic is that, shuichi wants to pry enough to crack cases. and kokichi desperately longs to quit hiding behind masks and lies, he is tired of dancing around the truth. 

ah, shit, he’s tired. 

even if he decided to be that vulnerable with his dear detective, neither of them know what they’re looking for. hiding behind obsidian walls enough to form a maze, lying so much that he has truly lost his own identity. on a good day, kokichi couldn’t discern the difference between a lie and a truth. if shuichi wanted the truth, kokichi had nothing to give to him, and it leaves him with an anger that burns his breath. 

the deepest parts of him knows that he won’t survive. a will to live so intense that it was borderline brutish, there was somebody else who shared the same passion with him. it was kirumi tojo, whose execution was inhumane. while they all watched, dark circles under their half-lidded eyes, blood feeling thick as they watch their friend get unrightfully killed. humiliated, tormented, and then given a taste of hope before despair sealed their lips closed to contain the scream. kokichi watched then, as kirumi’s dreams get laid away to rest in a box of gold. 

and that was the basis of this killing game; kokichi concludes. anchoring your greatest hope; a dream-killer taking a hold of it and tainting it with the roots of despair. your death, your pink blood inky and drooling down from your mouth. a hand choking you and giving a gentle breath of air before slicing your throat. that, was what he thought, the real meaning of danganronpa. funny how you only ever answer your own questions on your final gasp of air, and he clenches his eyes shut. 

and that was it. your dreams, are crushed.

**Author's Note:**

> mans is dead now im so sorry yall


End file.
